Where There's Smoke
by mellowenglishgal
Summary: Bellamy, the best friend of Nick since birth, is a reluctant witch, only practicing to complete the Circle. When Cassie arrives and things start to go awry, cautious Bellamy comes out of her shell to guide the Circle through their friend's death, Witch Hunters, demon possessions, estranged siblings and ill-fated parties.
1. Chapter 1

**A.N.**: I wanted to write a _Secret Circle_ story ages ago, replacing Cassie with a character I like! But I watched the entire series from start to finish and am in love with the idea of the four other Balcoin children coming to Chance Harbour, and I came up with this story because I think there needed to be at least one other male role within the Circle.

So I want to bring a Balcoin son into the story, with his best-friend (a non-Balcoin witch who takes after Reid from _The Covenant_ mixed with Kenzi from _Lost Girl_) to affect the final outcome. Also…I want to give Jake some back-story with his Hunter contacts that affects the Circle.

Also, I watched an episode of _H2O: Just Add Water_ and Phoebe Tonkin is…unrecognisable! I much prefer her as bold Faye. And Hayley; she's the only draw for _Vampire Diaries_ season four.

* * *

**Where There's Smoke…**

Or _Impractical Magic_

_01_

* * *

"Cassie! Can you come down for a minute?" Grandma called up the stairs, and Cassie sighed heavily. She had just driven a thousand miles; after being on the road so long, finally arriving in Chance Harbour she still felt like she was buzzing, the way she got after driving a long time. Disconnected, wired, and in an alien environment that to her mother would have been called 'home'. Her grandmother had left Amelia's adolescent bedroom exactly as she had abandoned it sixteen years ago, when, eighteen and a mom, she had packed infant Cassie in her car and fled.

She had gotten the same sketchy answer from her grandmother when she had asked what had happened here in Chance Harbour to make her mother leave, never talk about it or her life there again. 'It was hard for her here after Cassie's father had had his accident…' Yeah, Cassie had heard that before. She guessed she wasn't ever going to get any answers about her mysterious father, or what happened to him.

She was in a brand-new town—not unusual; she and her mom had moved around a lot her entire life, as if constantly fleeing—that should have been her home, and tomorrow she was supposed to start at a brand-new high-school. That wasn't anything new either, but her grandmother had warned her that this was a small town; everybody had known her mother, and they would all know about her mother's death. She had to be prepared to receive a lot of condolences. And a lot of comparisons; everybody her mother's age would recognise Amelia in Cassie's features.

She knew it would pass, with time, but Cassie felt disconnected from her surroundings; even if this had been her mother's childhood home, Cassie herself had never known it. The bedroom her mother had lived in felt cold, and despite the personality displayed in every aspect of the room, it felt like a museum. She sighed, pulled a cardigan on and dropped downstairs, expecting her grandmother—a woman she had only known from phone-calls and Christmas presents—to be waiting at the foot of the stairs about to head out.

But she wasn't—well, she wasn't alone, with her tote-bag and a shawl. Her grandmother was chuckling warmly with a very good-looking man who couldn't have been far off her age; he was very handsome, with lovely blue eyes, sandy blonde hair that curled everywhere, a rather long nose but lush lips, and his smile was warm and easy as he and her grandmother talked. Beside the older man was a girl about Cassie's age.

Cassie instantly liked her, she didn't know why. Her features were similar to the older man's, though gentler and more refined, and she had a daintier nose and somehow pretty ears, a slender throat and her hair was a very pretty dark-brunette, soft and curling naturally, several locks forming the most beautiful ringlets, with natural highlights glittering copper, auburn and burning red-maple in the lamplight. She was taller than Cassie by about a head, slim but not skinny, and despite the fashion trends of the moment, wore fitted dark jeans that clung to her butt and fell to her ankles. They weren't 'skinny' fit, and her long-sleeved t-shirt was dark heather-green and relaxed, slightly flimsy, with the sleeves pushed up to her elbows and a dainty necklace glittering gold at her throat. On her left middle-finger she wore a round ring of some black rock that sparkled appealingly, surrounded either by bobbly silver bits or diamantes, Cassie couldn't tell. But it sparkled and Cassie liked it; she liked the way the girl didn't disguise the smattering of freckles over her pretty nose and how her curly hair was gathered into a lazy ponytail with those natural ringlets shining.

There were some people Cassie couldn't cope with; the Heathers. Uptight, overachieving, _perfect_. This girl looked to be at the same speed as her.

"There she is," Grandma smiled, as Cassie bounced onto the landing, gazing at the girl and the older man, who glanced up with a warm smile. "Cassie, I'd like you to meet Professor Sade."

"Please, call me Piney," the older gentleman said, offering a large, clever hand, and Cassie smiled awkwardly. He didn't look like a professor; he looked…Cassie didn't know how to describe it; a rough but huge-hearted, _earthy_ older guy.

"Hi, it's…it's nice to meet you," Cassie said, stepping down into the hall.

"Piney and I have been friends since high-school," Grandma said, and Cassie raised her eyebrows inquisitively.

"Yep. Jane gives you grief about missing curfew, give me a call."

"Oh, don't go telling my secrets!" Grandma admonished, and Piney chuckled richly.

"Cassie, this is my granddaughter, Bellamy," Piney said, and the girl, Bellamy, waved shyly.

"Bellamy Sade?" Cassie said, raising her eyebrows. "That's a name!"

"Thanks," the girl said softly.

"Cassie, why don't you show Bellamy your room?" Grandma said. "Piney and I have some things to talk over."

"Do you need any help unpacking?" Bellamy asked.

"Uh…well, I don't…have much," Cassie admitted, but she gestured to the steps. "Wanna come upstairs?" Cassie could hear the timbre of Piney Sade's deep, warm voice as she led the way to her mother's bedroom. The girl—Bellamy—paused at the threshold of the bedroom, gazing around. Cassie saw how it looked; a few cardboard boxes, two suitcases, nothing unpacked.

"A cassette-player," Bellamy remarked softly, running her fingertips over the dusty cassette-deck on the dresser just inside the door. "Very retro… This was your mother's room?"

"Yeah…how did you know?" Cassie asked, glancing at her. She stood leaning in the doorway, gazing at the filled bookcase, the desk left as if Amelia had just finished her homework, the early-90s CD collection, the framed photographs, silk fans, the _stuff_ lying around everywhere, things her mother had left behind when she had taken Cassie and left Chance Harbour.

"Well, um…" Bellamy blushed softly, giving Cassie a sincere, apologetic look. She looked like she wanted to say something else, but instead said, "I live in my father's old bedroom."

"You live with your grandfather?" Cassie asked, and Bellamy nodded.

"Yeah, it's just the two of us…and Elsa," she smiled warmly.

"Elsa?"

"Our boxer-dog," Bellamy said, smiling. She had the prettiest eyes, dusty topaz, vibrant and warm, and they glowed when she smiled, showing pretty teeth. "Anyway…I grew up with a lot of my dad's old stuff, so…"

"So…you know my grandmother?"

"A little," Bellamy nodded. "Her and Grandpa have been friends all their lives, so… She's the one he sent me to when…well, my grandpa's a lot of things, but in touch with his feminine side isn't really one of them." Cassie chuckled, smiling. "He sent me to Jane when I got my first…" She gave Cassie a look, and Cassie nodded, understanding; she wouldn't know how to go to anyone but her mom about things like sex, periods, boys. "And Jane always said I could go to her in wardrobe-emergencies for dances…"

"And you do?" Cassie asked, smiling.

"I like Jane… She took care of my when I had my appendectomy," Bellamy said, and a slight shiver went across her face.

"Yeah, I didn't even know my grandma was a nurse," Cassie admitted.

"You haven't spent much time with Jane?" Bellamy asked.

"Actually, I've only spent a few vacations with her," Cassie admitted. "Not in the last few years, never in Chance Harbour. I only really know her from phone-calls, birthday presents…"

"Well, Jane's really nice," Bellamy smiled. "You're lucky to come live with her." Cassie sighed heavily. She didn't know about that. "I mean…" Perhaps guessing the meaning behind Cassie's sigh and her expression, Bellamy gave her a slightly apologetic look. "I know Chance Harbour isn't…well, it's a small, very rainy town. I don't know what kind of things you're into…but there's always internet-shopping." Cassie laughed, the first time in a while.

"Thank god for the internet," she smiled.

"Amen," Bellamy winked subtly. Her expression softened, became thoughtful, that earnest, sincere. "Your grandmother told us…about the fire." Cassie glanced at Bellamy, her stomach cramping. "I thought you wouldn't have much stuff to bring with you, and you have school tomorrow…"

The fire-department had managed to salvage some of the contents of her bedroom; her _Phantom of the Opera_ poster, the memo-board of photographs decorated with twinkling Christmas lights, some books, her DVD case and some other random trinkets, her shadow-box butterfly collection, a Chinese puzzle-box and a little kokopeli they had picked up in Sedona. And her clothes; she had had to launder everything three times to get rid of the smell of smoke, though it was a scent she wouldn't forget in a hurry.

"I…put this together for you," Bellamy said, digging something out of her mini black _Dakine_ bag slung over her shoulder; whatever it was, it was small, no bigger than the size of her palm, and wrapped in turquoise tissue-paper and a ribbon. Cassie eyed it, surprised, as Bellamy proffered it to her.

"What's this?" she smiled. She couldn't help it; a present! She took it, carefully opening the neatly-wrapped gift. It was a small natural-linen zipper pouch, printed with the words 'In Case of Emergency, Put Mascara On Yourself Before Helping Others'. Cassie smiled, and, feeling there to be something inside the little bag, she unzipped it, discovering a sealed waterproof-mascara sample, a piece of _Bazooka_ gum, a delicate, embroidered handkerchief and what looked like a handmade little booklet, the mini pages bound in some kind of pretty harlequin scrapbook-paper in cornflower-blue and violet.

"What's this?"

"Um…I just…your grandmother said you were coming, so I…kind of made a teen-friendly…guidebook to Chance Harbour," Bellamy said shyly, her cheeks blushing beautifully, and Cassie set the other things down on her bed, perching on the edge of the mattress as she opened the little book. There were doodles, ink sketches of the mountainous skyline she had been awed by on her drive into town, the wharf, the boats at the docks with their flickering flags, with someone's delicate handwriting telling her the best place for blueberry pie; rare vinyl records; used books; 'occult' stuff; vintage clothes; jewellery; the best place for a mocha; even a recipe, for homemade facials; a place downtown that gave students a discount on mani-pedis; when the local farmer's market was; a schedule for town events; even who to call for pot.

"Is his stuff any good?" Cassie asked, and Bellamy chuckled.

"Well, I wouldn't…really know," she smiled, her warm eyes twinkling. "But my best-friend swears by the guy, so…"

"Did you make this?" Cassie asked, indicating the little booklet. "The drawings?"

"Yeah, I…like art," Bellamy said, with a subtle shrug, and Cassie nodded. "So…what're you interested in?"

"Uh… Not much, at the moment," Cassie admitted on a sigh. "So what's your friend's name, the one you mentioned?"

"Nick," Bellamy smiled warmly. "You might've met him. He actually lives next-door to you."

"Ah," Cassie said, sighing. She gave Bellamy a look. "The guy in the window." Bellamy quirked an eyebrow curiously. "Last night, I was getting dressed, and—" Bellamy chuckled, shaking her head, a pretty smile highlighting her cheekbones. "Well…we haven't exactly friended each other on _Facebook_."

"I wouldn't expect Nick to lead the welcome-wagon," Bellamy said, with an indulgent smile over her friend. "He keeps to himself. But I'll talk to him about the window. Until then, I'd get dressed in the bathroom."

"Yeah!" Cassie half-laughed.

"Girls!" Grandma's voice echoed up the stairwell. "Bellamy! Your grandpa wants to get going!" Bellamy glanced into the hallway, and Cassie followed her downstairs, still holding the little booklet.

"Hey, kiddo," Bellamy's grandfather said, and as Cassie watched, Bellamy stepped down into the hall, allowing her grandfather to link his arm around her shoulders, almost cuddling close, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Second-nature. That closeness she witnessed made Cassie's heart burn.

"Piney invited us for dinner on Friday-night," Grandma smiled at Cassie, who smiled too.

"I hope you like lasagne," Piney said, and Cassie smiled, nodding.

"Thank you," she said politely. "For…for inviting me. Us."

"You're very welcome," Piney smiled warmly. "Anything we can do to help." He gave her a warm, earnest look that his granddaughter must have picked up from him. "We've all lost family here." Cassie glanced for a second at Bellamy, whose eyes flicked down to the floor as she licked her lips nervously. Suddenly wondering who it was Bellamy had to have lost to have grown up in her grandfather's house, Cassie watched the other girl dawdle out the front-door after a hug with Jane. Bellamy gave Cassie a shy smile, before the door shut, and Grandma gazed up at Cassie.

"I hope you do like lasagne," she smiled warmly. "Bellamy's a great cook."

"I can barely make cereal," Cassie said drily.

"Well, we'll have to change that," Grandma smiled warmly. "Come, we can start now… What would you like for dinner?"

"Grandma, you don't have to cook me special things," Cassie said.

"Oh, I know. But there's no point me cooking if you don't like it," Grandma said. "The last time I saw you, you were on a vegetarian diet."

"Mom and I made a pact," Cassie said, her stomach slipping.

"How did that work out?"

"We drove by _In N' Out Burger_ and smelt the deliciousness," Cassie said, with a grim smile, and her grandmother chuckled.

"Well, to go against everything my nursing training has taught me about high-cholesterol and a high-fat diet, life is too short to not enjoy your food."

"That's true," Cassie nodded.

"So. Dinner?"

* * *

"What was she like?" Nick asked lazily, as he sipped his water and fiddled with his fork, eyeing her bacon.

"Have it," she sighed. Bellamy shrugged delicately, gazing at her friend, as he flashed a tiny, irreverent smile and swooped in to steal her bacon as she drizzled syrup and smeared raspberry jelly on her last pancake. "I don't know… She seemed…quiet." Nick gave her a look.

"_You_ quiet or normal quiet?"

"I am normal," Bellamy said, pausing to sip her soda. Nick eyed the soda, frowning.

"You have the nightmare again?" he asked quietly, and for a second, his irreverent expression disappeared, replaced by an earnestly concerned look that tightened the corners of his eyes. She should have figured; Nick, her best-friend since his birth, would know all of her tells. Soda with pancakes for breakfast was her post-nightmare remedial breakfast.

French toast and hot-chocolate with orange-juice was her hangover breakfast of choice—Nick's was a BLT and a soda. They'd discovered that a long time ago, back when Jake…when Nick's older brother had still been around. He'd been the first to get them drunk…the first to take care of them afterwards, making them all grilled-cheese sandwiches. Bellamy's stomach ached, and she pushed the straw from between her lips with her tongue, eyes on Nick, and swallowed, before taking a mouthful of pancake, and nodded subtly. "Did anything happen this time?" Bellamy shook her head.

"No, not this time," she said softly, reaching up to scratch her forehead before tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Her nightmare had recurred since childhood, since her grandfather had finally worn down and told her how her parents had died; ever since, she'd had the same nightmare, and it always terrified her. And because of her powers, when she had the nightmare, things…tended to lose control. Inanimate objects found themselves levitating, cats seemed lured to the house, even the weather was sometimes affected by the influence her nightmares had on her emotions and thus her magic. Last night, thinking about Cassie Blake's mother, the fire she had burned in, had apparently triggered her subconscious, causing the nightmare.

"Well, that's good, right?" Nick said softly, and Bellamy nodded. "So…anything else about her?"

"We're back on Cassie again?" Bellamy smiled softly. She shrugged again. "She was just…quiet. But there seemed to be more going on inside her head than she let on."

"Did you give her that gift you put together?" Nick asked, with a subtle smirk, and Bellamy nodded. Bellamy didn't tend to make friends easily; Nick was her best-friend and had been since he was born. Their parents had been best-friends, bridesmaids and best man at each other's weddings, godparents to their children. Everybody who ever saw Bellamy knew her as the little orphan girl whose parents, high-school sweethearts, had burned alive in a fire. She found it difficult to put herself forward, was shy and…too cautious. Her hesitancy wasn't limited to practicing witchcraft. But she had put together that little package for Cassie Blake because she had thought…well, a new girl, in a brand-new town so soon after losing her mother.

A single act of kindness could really brighten someone's day. And she guessed Cassie Blake needed all the cheering up she could get. Plus, it wouldn't hurt for Bellamy to be the only person Cassie knew before starting school today; if the others were so keen on bringing Cassie into their Circle…perhaps forging a friendship with Cassie would help earn her trust, make it a little easier to break the news to her that she was a witch with legacies dating to Salem, Massachusetts.

"Does she know?" Nick asked.

"Well, I put Wilson's occult store in the little book, she didn't say anything about it," Bellamy said thoughtfully. She sighed. "I wish there was some kind of registry."

"What, sign up and get your free black cauldron?" Nick chuckled, finishing off the bacon. "Newsletter every month, announcing new members?"

"_Wiccan Weekly_," Bellamy smiled. "It would make things a lot easier." Nick nodded, sipping his drink.

"You know what else would make things easier?" Nick murmured.

"What?"

"My parents' Book of Shadows," Nick said.

"You still haven't found it?" Bellamy asked, glancing across the table at her best-friend; she cut up the last of her pancake and fiddled with her fork.

"I've searched my house from top to bottom," Nick sighed grumpily. Bellamy frowned.

"Do you ever think maybe Jake found it?" she said thoughtfully, gazing at Nick.

"Jake?" Nick raised an eyebrow.

"It's possible," Bellamy said earnestly, reflecting, just as she had numerous times in the last few months, trying to figure out who they were, where their magic came from and to what end they should use it, why so few of them had found their family's Books of Shadows. Diana had found her mother's book first, almost a year ago; from it, she had figured out who the other members of her mother's Circle had been, including the Armstrongs, Bellamy's parents and those of Adam, Melissa and Faye Chamberlain. They only had one Book of Shadows between them, to begin with; but Bellamy's grandfather lectured all over the country on the occult and witchcraft, and one weekend when she had been home-alone, Nick had come over and they had turned her house upside-down.

They hadn't found anything until Bellamy had discovered a cloaking spell in Diana's book; and even then, she had only used the spell after finding absolutely nothing in her family's old house—the one she and her parents had lived in, not her grandfather's house—now up for rental again since the last tenants moved out. The house had been built by her maternal grandparents; the cloaking spell had revealed several hidden compartments all over the house. Among other things, she had found her mother's Book of Shadows. She was still searching for her father's; both her parents had been witches from powerful families, their Books would have passed to them and, then, to Bellamy. If things had been different.

As it was, their Circle had been incomplete until Cassie Blake's arrival in town. The circumstances surrounding her mother's death mere months after they had discovered they needed Cassie to complete their Circle was too eerie for Bellamy to contemplate without risking serious nightmares in repercussion. Whether it was Fate or something more sinister, Cassie had arrived to complete their Circle when they all believed they would never be bound to control and enhance their powers. But bringing Cassie in, when they themselves had only one incomplete sourcebook for reference, meant they now had just one other person who knew absolutely nothing about magic.

They didn't know why they had these powers, what they were for, how they should use them, or why their parents had died. Diana claimed their parents' Circle hadn't been bound. But due to the sketchy nature of their parents' deaths and the secrecy their remaining relatives imposed on witchcraft and the boatyard accident, Bellamy was coming to believe that something perhaps more sinister had happened that day. There were just too many secrets.

And she didn't like contemplating this binding ritual for the Circle when they had no clue what long-term implications it had. According to her mother's book, binding a Circle meant the members' powers were brought under control, but it also made sure that no individual Circle member could use their powers alone. It bound their powers together, not stripping their magic but making it _communal_. They had to work together as a group to channel their magic at its full potential.

The full-potential part was what had Faye excited about Cassie's arrival in Chance Harbour; as soon as Diana had heard that Cassie Blake would be living in Chance Harbour with Jane, she had started making plans to have the Circle bound by ritual. She wanted their magic under control—she wanted _Faye_ under control. There was no telling what Faye would do at any given moment; she was a live-wire. Diana wielded her mother's Book of Shadows like a weapon, a tool to keep the rest of them in line and keep the source of all of their knowledge to herself. Ensuring she remained leader, in control.

Diana had serious control issues. She planned _everything_.

If _not_ binding the Circle didn't kill them, their varying personalities and how they affected each individual's use of their powers probably would.

Diana had wanted to work systematically through her mother's Book until they could do every spell, experimenting. She had watched too much _Charmed_ and didn't believe in using her powers for personal gain.

Mr Responsible, Adam, used his magic to help out at the _Boathouse_, keeping the coffee warm, refilling salt-shakers, fixing the oven, and fixing plates and glasses that got smashed during the rush.

Nick, the drug-entrepreneur of Chance Harbour High, concocted 'organic' psychedelics that he sold around school.

And Faye did whatever she wanted with her magic to make her existence in rainy, dull Chance Harbour more exciting, whether it was stealing a top, charming a cute guy at the movie-theatre into giving her free _Milk_ _Duds _or asking her out on a date, make facials from Bellamy's Book of Shadows, alter her grades and play mean tricks on people at school she disliked.

Melissa followed wherever Faye led, without questioning it despite any misgivings she might've had at the time.

And then there was Bellamy. The reluctant witch.

For an artistic girl, Faye claimed Bellamy had no imagination; she didn't do anything with her powers. It wasn't like _The Covenant_, where they jumped off cliffs and flew down to beach-parties and prevented renegade warlocks from stealing their powers, saving the girl; and there certainly was no _Charmed_ aspect to their lives, unless you counted the similarities between being orphaned young. But for whatever reason, their parents had been witches. And they were dead.

Her mother's Book of Shadows warned against practicing witchcraft; wherever witches were, evil followed.

Whoever had written that in her Book centuries ago had obviously foreseen Faye.

If the others in their incomplete Circle were being nice, which all but Faye were, most of the time, they called Bellamy 'cautious' or 'hesitant'. They had to coax her into practicing, if only because, combined, their power was greater and they could tackle some of the more complicated spells.

She just didn't know what they were supposed to do with their powers.

It wasn't like they could all get onboard a scarlet train and ride to Hogwarts for their magical education; all they knew was from Diana's Book—and, in secret, Bellamy learned from her own mother's Book of Shadows. But they didn't know the broader scope of witchcraft, the dangers; were there Death Eaters coming for them, was there such a thing as prophecies and, as Adam's father claimed, fates written in the stars?

Not knowing made Bellamy cautious; one of them had to be. Diana was all for experimenting with their magic, as long as they didn't draw attention to themselves and they were careful. But what if external forces could sense their magic? What had really happened to their parents?

She was of the belief that her grandfather—and Nick's aunt, Faye's mother, Diana's, Adam's and Melissa's fathers, all of their grandparents—had kept the fate of their parents and their heritage as witches a secret for a reason.

And that reason had to be huge. And it was dangerous; they had to keep their knowledge of their magic a secret, so said Diana, but Bellamy didn't agree with it.

She didn't want what had happened to their parents to happen to them.

Keeping their witchcraft a secret ensured something awful would happen.

And they'd have nobody to blame but themselves.

"You still with me?" Nick asked, and Bellamy glanced up, blinking.

"Sorry," she apologised, sighing softly.

"You've been doing that a lot recently," Nick observed.

"I'm just…thinking things over," she sighed.

"This binding ritual Diana keeps going on about?" Nick murmured, and Bellamy nodded.

"I just don't think we know enough," she said. "Why keep our magic a secret, why…why was Amelia Blake so adamant about keeping Cassie from Chance Harbour? Jane said she's never even been here before, not since she was a baby. Amelia Blake had to know we could never bind our Circle if Cassie was gone…" Nick frowned, as Bellamy gazed at him.

"What?" Nick murmured.

"Cassie's mother knew we would never be able to bind our Circle if she kept Cassie from Chance Harbour," Bellamy mused. She frowned at Nick. "What reason could she have for preventing that from happening?"

"Must've been something to do with the fire," Nick shrugged.

"Yeah," Bellamy sighed softly. Why would Amelia Blake keep her daughter, the last member of her generation's Circle, away from her home, where the power of the bound Circle could protect her? "Maybe she just…didn't want what happened to her friends to happen to her daughter."

Nick gave her a look, and Bellamy sighed. "So…what're we doing tonight?"

"How about…doing something novel. Homework!" Bellamy suggested, and Nick rolled his eyes at her, making her chuckle. "How about a movie?"

"Okay, but it's my pick—"

"Come on!"

"Hey, we watched _Mighty Ducks_ last time because you wanted to!" Nick reminded her, and Bellamy sighed.

"You know it's my favourite," she said unapologetically.

"I do. And I did a random draw," Nick said, with a subtle smirk.

"What did we get?"

"_Almost Famous_," Nick said.

"No, not again!" Bellamy blurted, eyes widening. "You fixed the draw!"

"I can't help it, I'm addicted!" Nick smiled subtly.

"Fine, but if I'm going to spend two hours sitting there watching Kate Hudson commit suicide again, then we are ordering Thai food," Bellamy said, and Nick scowled.

"Oh, come on!"

"Hey, last night when we watched _Alien_, we got burgers like you wanted to," Bellamy pointed out.

"Okay fine, tonight Thai food, but tomorrow _The Bucket List_ and pizza," Nick said, and Bellamy grinned as Adam sidled over with his order-pad, tearing off their cheque.

"Look at you two, you're like a really sweet old agoraphobic couple!" Adam smirked playfully, as Nick pulled out his wallet and Bellamy tugged a $10 note from her jacket-pocket.

"Thank you very much," she smiled sweetly.

"We're not a couple," Nick said darkly. Bellamy rolled her eyes.

"Face it, Nick, we are like an old married couple. Arguing over dinner, what we watch on the television…" she said, raising an eyebrow as she smirked; they handed Adam their cash and he sidled off, smirking, to refill coffee-cups. Bellamy gazed at Nick, who was frowning at his wallet, going through its contents, and she noticed something familiar shining amid battered receipts and soft leather. A condom. Testing the water, she said, "Tell me about Melissa."

Nick glanced up, right in her eyes. "There's nothing to tell."

Bellamy smiled. "Nick, you've changed your sheets twice already this week. And from the way Melissa looks at you…"

"When'd you become an expert on relationships?" Nick asked, tucking his wallet back into his back-pocket.

"I thought Armstrong men were allergic to 'relationships'," Bellamy teased, remembering distinctly the drama surrounding Nick's older-brother Jake and his _relationship_ with Faye Chamberlain two years ago. While Bellamy had had a huge crush on Jake, feisty and precocious Faye, at a very young fifteen, had been sleeping with him. She hadn't been friends with Faye back then—she still wasn't friends with the girl now!—but being best-friends with Nick meant she had overheard arguments and other things going on in Jake's old bedroom while he and Faye had been together, and had been in Faye's English class Freshman year to see the effect of Jake's disappearance from Chance Harbour on Faye.

Now Nick, who had hit on every girl at Chance Harbour High, her best-friend since his birth, who struggled a lot of the time with finding the point to living, had been spending a lot of time with Melissa. Bellamy, an expert on Nick, saw the way Melissa looked at and acted around him.

"Alright, so we hooked up a couple times," Nick shrugged, and Bellamy nodded; she knew that. "Melissa doesn't want anyone to know."

"Why not?"

"She thinks she's being slutty," Nick sighed.

"Or is she afraid…_people_ will find out and she won't stop hearing about it," Bellamy said, as Faye sauntered into the _Boathouse_ for a coffee to go. Nick gave her a look; Adam dropped by with their change, and Bellamy winked as she left a tip.

"Thanks," Adam smiled subtly. "You're still working the dinner shift today, right?"

"Yes, I will be here after school," Bellamy smiled. "I'm…going over to Nick's after for movies and pizza."

"What movie?"

"_Almost Famous_."

"Again?"

"Nick's choice," Bellamy shrugged.

"You need to expand your movie collection," Adam remarked, and Bellamy shrugged.

"Well, I can't really talk; I've had to replace my _Mighty Ducks_ DVD already," she smiled, and Adam chuckled. "You need a ride?"

"No, I have a few things I have to do before school," Adam said. "Thanks, though. Hey—um…you met her?" Bellamy pulled her new backpack over her shoulder, giving Adam a subtle look.

"Well, she wasn't exactly Hermione practicing out of her Book of Shadows before school," she said, and Adam chuckled, making Bellamy smile. She liked Adam; he was a bit whipped, a little too much under his girlfriend Diana's thumb, but he had a good, earnest heart, and he worked hard. His father, a struggling alcoholic, had given Bellamy a part-time job, and when her grandfather was out of town giving lectures at universities in other cities, Bellamy stayed late at the _Boathouse_ for dinner with the Conant men. Apparently Mr Conant's father had been friends with her grandfather; while her Grandpa was an expert on the occult, Mr Conant Sr. had been a History teacher at the high-school; _his_ father had built the _Boathouse_, and Bellamy now enjoyed the tips from generous patrons of the grill after she spent a few hours three days a week waiting tables.

"Do you think she knows?" Bellamy shrugged delicately.

"If she does, she's keeping quiet about it," she said softly, licking her lips thoughtfully. "She seemed…introverted."

"Maybe that'll help balance out _Faye_," Adam said, as Faye flirted with one of the waiters.

"If she knows about us. If not…it might be a little too much for her to handle, so soon after her mother," Bellamy said softly.

"You think we should wait?" Adam said.

"I think telling her, if she's not ready to hear it, might cause problems. Especially if her mother's kept it from her," Bellamy said thoughtfully. "She might ask why she was kept from here, from finding out who she is…and the one person in the world who had any right to tell her is gone… Do you find it…_odd_, that…Amelia Blake left Chance Harbour the same day our parents died in the fire?"

"I got the impression she left because of it," Adam frowned.

"Maybe she did," Bellamy sighed, shrugging. "I just find it strange that Amelia Blake took her daughter out of Chance Harbour knowing our Circle could never be completed without her. Keeping Cassie away from us has prevented us binding our Circle already."

"Well, that and _other things_," Adam said, with a pointed look at Faye.

"Her reasons may be selfish, but maybe she has a point," Bellamy said, and Adam raised his eyebrows at her in disbelief. "We don't know what kind of repercussions there might be for binding our Circle."

"We know what might happen if we don't bind it," Adam said heavily. Bellamy frowned at him. "I know, you don't think we should base all our hypotheses on Diana's Book, it's a partial record…"

"Thinking about it now, I just find it odd that Amelia Blake would intentionally keep Cassie from Chance Harbour—keep us from binding our Circle," Bellamy said softly. "There has to be a reason for it."

"You don't want to bind the Circle?" Adam surmised softly.

"I just…don't like how little we know," Bellamy admitted quietly. She gave Adam a look; they had had a few debates, at the abandoned house, about the prudency of keeping their practicing witchcraft a secret from their guardians. Diana wanted to keep it a secret; Faye didn't and Melissa followed her lead; Adam battled with the desire to bond with his father over their shared legacy of being witches, and the need to keep Diana safe by keeping their secret; and Bellamy was a reluctant witch and had trouble just being in high-school.

She didn't know what kind of trouble they could attract by being witches, just as her mother's Book of Shadows warned.

"Kids!" Mr Conant called. "You're gonna be late!"

"Crap."

"I'll get the car running; we'll wait for you," Bellamy said.

"Thanks!" Adam called, already hot-footing it to the basement-office to grab his backpack. It wasn't unusual for them to get a ride to school together; the eldest of them, if the shyest, Bellamy had gotten her licence earlier than the others and had played chauffeur to Nick since she'd gotten it. Part of her and Nick's weekly ritual was to have breakfast at the Boathouse—if Bellamy wasn't working a morning shift. Sometimes, especially if her grandfather was out of town, she worked the morning shift before school to…well, to be surrounded by people. It made her grandfather feel better at ease about leaving her home-alone if he knew she was in a crowded place with someone like Adam looking out for her.

Adam launched himself into the backseat of her Honda CRV while she idled outside the Boathouse, and she drove her, Adam and Nick to school, parking in the junior parking-lot. The roads were scattered with puddles, people had already started bringing out warmer jackets and waterproofed boots. Despite it being September, it _was_ Washington, and like the quote about San Francisco's summers being the worst winter ever experienced, the natives had learned to embrace layers and to give up hope of gorgeous tans, even during the summer months.

Bellamy soaked up sunshine if she sat out in it for a half-hour; it was an anomaly of her genetics. As a young child she had been a redhead whose only freckles appeared on her nose, and even then only after turning nut-brown; over the years, her hair had darkened naturally, but the freckles on her nose remained, as had her propensity to darken in the sun.

So her grandfather's habit of going to his little beach-house in Mexico to fish during the summer meant Bellamy had a rich tan that lasted most years into mid-October. And she was one of the few amid a sea of pasty Washingtonians who didn't look like an extra on the set of _Twilight_.

The boys scattered to their various pre-lesson haunts, Nick to the boys' bathroom to deal some stuff, Adam no doubt to go and find Diana; Bellamy picked up her books for her morning class and headed off.

A bright student, Bellamy hated the rigidity and lack of imagination her lecturers put into their lessons. There were only so many times they could hear a lecture on Hitler's rise to power in the early 1930s due to the economic crash. And History had existed before 1945 _and_ before 1776. She wanted to hear about Wendell Wilkie's views on race and civil rights; to learn about Tudor England; and study the European witch-trials, like the infamous Nuremberg Trials in Germany; she wanted to learn accounting, not geometry; and she'd prefer to read _The_ _Hobbit_, _Alice in Wonderland_ and _The Jungle Book_ in English class with John Donne poetry, TS Eliot and Wordsworth. And No More _Romeo and Juliet_. If she had to sit through another showing of the '90s Leo Di Caprio film version she would slit her wrists.

Luckily, they were working on _The Winter's Tale_ and _Othello_ this year. The other girls in her class couldn't understand why they couldn't read _Romeo and Juliet_ again; the Drama club was putting it on as their Spring production.

Bellamy was a stickler for neatness—regarding all things written. She had delicate, beautiful handwriting and her notes were always neat; she had separate composition notebooks for each subject, which she kept pristine. She wasn't an extrovert; she chuckled at the boisterous antics of some of her male classmates but she didn't like making her teachers annoyed; she sat and wrote her notes, handed in assignments, and if she got bored—usually during her math class—she brought out her sketchbook and doodled. Bellamy was a talented artist—or would be, if she ever showed anybody her work. She had been working on portraiture and alternated between graphite and the new set of Micron pens her grandfather had gifted her as part of a back-to-school present. Well, a bribe-to-get-her-to-go-back-to-school present. She and Nick had been contemplating homeschooling; the only reason Nick showed up was to promote his illicit little business and skip Math on a Thursday afternoon to go to the movies with Bellamy.

At least that had been their tradition last year; skip Math on a Thursday for cheap matinee tickets at the two-screen 1930s theatre downtown, skip Monday-morning homeroom for breakfast at the _Boathouse_ and Tuesday lunchtimes they went to the arcade for pizza and air-hockey. Mostly because the guy who worked the kitchens also sold really good pot; Nick bought from him and sold dime-bags to kids at school, the same way his older-brother Jake had. Nick had learned all his tricks from his angry, lost older-brother.

By lunchtime, Bellamy was ready to commit homicide; the most irritating girls in the junior-class shared her Classical Civilisation class and their incessant ignorance made her want to embrace some of the more unpleasant spells in her Book of Shadows and go by way of _The Craft_ and make their extensions fall out, give them chronic acne, dandruff and _boils_.

Juniors didn't get off-campus lunches, _technically_: but even perfect Miss Meade wanted to gather at the abandoned house to go over developments with Cassie Blake. Bellamy and Nick picked up tacos on the way over to the house, and discovered Faye sitting on the sofa upstairs taking all the carbohydrates out of her packed-lunch while Melissa scraped the yoghurt off the foil cap of her pot with a spoon.

"Where's the prom king and the mighty organiser?" Nick asked, as he slung himself down into the biggest armchair they had salvaged from a charity shop downtown.

"They stopped by the _Boathouse_ to pick up something to eat," Melissa said, eyeing Nick almost voraciously as Bellamy perched on the arm of his armchair, leaning back as Nick emptied the contents of the paper-bag filled with their lunch onto the battered coffee-table.

"Tacos?" Faye murmured, seeming to inhale deeply to take in the scent, and she sighed, eyeing her limp celery-sticks piped with peanut-butter miserably. Halfway through their lunches, Adam and Diana arrived.

"So has everybody met Cassie?" Diana asked, perky and wide-eyed as ever.

"Bellamy did yesterday," Nick said, consuming his lunch with a sip of his soda.

"And I saw you talking to her, Faye," Diana said, giving Faye a questioning look. "What'd you talk about?"

"Nothing," Faye shrugged.

"She's a tiny little thing!" Melissa giggled, and Faye smirked at their most petite member calling someone else 'little'.

"She looked like a twelve-year-old," Faye said, with a deadpan expression.

"Well, I told her everybody hangs out at the _Boathouse_ after school, so she might stop by this afternoon," Diana said, glancing at Adam and Bellamy, the _Boathouse_'s two most well-tipped employees. "I've been thinking, maybe we should take things slow with Cassie."

"You're not serious," Faye sighed impatiently.

"We don't know what Cassie knows," Diana said evenly. "If we do or say the wrong thing we could scare her off—or she could unintentionally use her magic and hurt us." Diana glanced at Faye with a pointed look, at which Faye's back straightened, her features smoothing out coolly; they all knew that Faye was the livewire, the one amongst them who didn't think about consequences, just enjoyed being a witch with powers and most of the time got out of hand… She had hurt Nick once using her magic the first times they had gathered here at the abandoned house.

"You were all for initiating her into the Circle the second she got into town," Melissa pointed out. "Ever since Jane Blake told Bellamy's grandpa she was coming to Chance Harbour."

"Look…that girl we all saw today, she's _sad_," Diana said, and Faye smirked. "She's probably not feeling too good right about now, she's an orphan…" She gave Bellamy and Nick a look.

"If she thinks we're ganging up on her about magic and the Circle she'll probably try twice as hard to keep away, thinking we're just messing with her, trying to torture the new girl," Bellamy said thoughtfully. "I still find it odd Amelia Blake took her away in the first place."

"Why?" Diana frowned.

"Amelia would've known we'd never be able to bind our Circle without Cassie," Bellamy said, and Diana frowned again thoughtfully. "Whatever happened at the fire…it still has residual impact now, on us. Something must've scared Amelia Blake so much she'd never risk her daughter becoming part of our Circle."

"But binding our Circle ensures our safety," Diana said, almost pleadingly. "It'll stop all our excess energy from taking us by surprise."

"Maybe the Circle's the very thing Amelia Blake was trying to keep Cassie away from," Bellamy shrugged. "No Chance Harbour, no Circle…it's possible Cassie doesn't even know she's a witch."

"If her mother's power was stripped from her like the rest of our parents, it's possible she could keep Cassie in the dark," Diana said. "But why—?"

"Hold on—you're worried about us actually _binding_ the Circle?" Faye said, pointing to Bellamy with a smirk. "You mean you're not going along with Little Miss Push-up Bra?" Diana scowled at Faye but Bellamy shrugged.

"I think we should just be careful," she said. "We don't know what really happened to our parents, I don't think the explanation can be as simple as our parents not having bound their Circle, there's no evidence of them not binding it. We should find out _why_ Amelia Blake took Cassie from Chance Harbour. It would have made her life so much easier—and Cassie's—if she'd stayed in Chance Harbour, Jane could have helped raise Cassie. And she would have had friends, Adam's dad to help…" She shrugged. "I'm just wondering whether binding the Circle will do more harm than good."

"But we'll be able to control our power better," Diana protested. "All of us, together, as a group."

"There's just one problem with that," Faye smirked, and it had a vicious edge to it. "We're _not_ a group."

No matter her numerous flaws, Faye Chamberlain was nothing if not outspoken when nobody else was. Pointing out that despite their shared heritage as witches they had absolutely _nothing_ to do with each other. Faye and Melissa had been best-friends since middle-school, Adam and Diana had been together for three long years, and Nick and Bellamy had been inseparable since Nick's birth. But Faye couldn't stand Diana's holier-than-thou attitude and Diana believed Faye reckless and insensitive; Melissa went along with Faye and Nick used Diana's Book of Shadows to concoct natural non-harmful drugs, Bellamy just got dragged to the abandoned house to help with séances and elixirs. She and Nick loved experimental cooking, and after Bellamy had perfected her hash-brownies recipe using the stuff Nick sold at school, they had graduated to mixing Nick's special elixirs into the brownie-batter to test their effects. But none of them really hung out together, at the abandoned house, despite it being their magical stronghold. They only gathered when Diana demanded emergency-meetings to discuss Cassie Blake or Faye blatantly using her powers, otherwise the girls hung out in Faye's bedroom drinking and dancing to music; Adam and Diana…did whatever they did when they were together. And Nick and Bellamy skipped school to play air-hockey, cooked experimental casseroles using his aunt's wine with elixir-brownies for dessert while they watched movies and put the bare-minimum effort into their homework.

Diana sighed impatiently. "Maybe not. But Cassie has no-one. Maybe us befriending her can bring us all closer." Diana gave a jaunty smile even as Faye rolled her eyes.

"And then we'll all be best-friends forever," she said jauntily with an ironic grin. "Come _on_, we're _witches_. Not _cheerleaders_."

"Will you just…give it a try?" Diana snapped impatiently. "I know it's difficult, trying not to think about yourself for five minutes, but Cassie needs us, she has nobody! And she is part of our Circle. And that means we're supposed to stick by each other when there's nobody else."

* * *

**A.N.**: Please review! I know _The Secret Circle_ is no longer in production, but that doesn't mean our imagination has to stop!


	2. Chapter 2

**A.N.**: Shock! An update! I know I keep you hanging, but I've had dissertations to write in order to graduate from university. Priorities and all that!

Every time I see Bellamy with her grandfather, I see Dyson from _Lost Girl_, played by Kris Holden-Reid. Lovely, lovely male! So I envision an older version of Dyson as Bellamy's grandfather. I don't have a visual reference for Bellamy, just that she has _my_ hair when it's having a really _good_ day! And her intended looks like Toby Hemingway, i.e. Reid from _The Covenant_ and Oscar from _Feast of Love_. Having an obsession with Daniel Gillies, i.e. Elijah Mikaelson from _Vampire Diaries_, I love his personality for a Balcoin brother.

Having watched the first season of _Charmed_ over the last few days, and memories of Cade and Holly's future child in their Immortals After Dark novel, I like the idea of the blessed child being the ultimate warrior against evil.

* * *

**Where There's Smoke**

Or _Impractical Magic_

_02_

* * *

Bellamy was waiting tables and collecting empty dishes when she noticed a teeny blonde enter through the _Boathouse_'s front-door, wide-eyed and gazing around and taking in the brand-new surroundings. While she took an order, she oversaw Cassie Blake talking to Mr Conant, who poured himself a drink—across the room, Bellamy caught Adam's eye and he quickly intervened, taking away the glass of whisky from his father and setting Cassie up in a booth.

She put the order in, filled the drinks order and carried milkshakes, coffees and sodas over to various tables with an ice-cream sundae, a warm slice of blueberry pie and on another table, a tray of cheese-fries, and handed one of her generous tippers a lobster-roll he had asked for in a bag to go, before taking out her order-pad and heading over to the booth Adam had sat Cassie in, giving her a glass of water and a menu.

_Uh-oh_, she thought, catching sight of Melissa and Faye slide into the seat opposite Cassie. She could hear their conversation with Cassie as she refilled coffee-cups; "Adam's a hottie. You should make a play, you're totally his type."

"Stop it, Faye!"

"What? It's _true_!" Faye said, eyebrows flicking.

"I'm Melissa, nice to meet you," Melissa said, offering her hand to Cassie.

"And I'm Faye Chamberlain."

"Yeah, we met…sort of."

"Now it's official," Faye smirked.

"Hi," Bellamy said, approaching the table with her order-pad.

"Cassie, you've met Bellamy before," Faye smiled charmingly.

"Yeah, we met yesterday," Cassie said, smiling shyly.

"Can I get you anything?"

"Actually, I haven't really looked at the menu yet," Cassie admitted.

"I'll give you a few minutes. Do you want any drinks?" Bellamy asked.

"We're good," Faye sniffed, but Bellamy ignored her, gazing at Cassie.

"No, I'm good, thanks," she smiled.

"'Kay," Bellamy nodded, and went to claim the coffee jug to refill cups and take down dessert orders. It wasn't in her nature to put herself forward and be the bold, precocious extrovert like Faye, who would, as she had just demonstrated, invite herself to sit with whoever she wanted, talked a big game and intimidated a lot of people… Bellamy sometimes wished she was at least a fraction as fearless as Faye Chamberlain; people may be intimidated by her, annoyed by her bitchiness, but if she was bold without the attitude, Faye could have had a lot more friends, and for a girl like Bellamy, very shy, who found it difficult to make friends, Faye's boldness was enviable.

Unfortunately, Faye's boldness was combined with a brash, outspoken personality and most of the time she ruffled too many feathers—as evidenced when Cassie got up from her booth and made her way out of the _Boathouse_.

"What was that about?" Bellamy asked, as she sidled up to Faye and Melissa, standing at the window watching the parking-lot outside the _Boathouse_.

"Faye was being her charming self, as usual," Melissa sighed. "I don't think she knows, do you?"

"I think she needs a nudge," Faye answered sweetly, gazing at the small green SUV Cassie climbed into.

"Faye…" Bellamy sighed.

"What?"

"This is exactly what gets Diana on her soapbox," Bellamy sighed, but she watched, her tray under her arm, head canted to one side as she stood beside Melissa, watching for what Faye was about to do. Where Faye was concerned there was very little grey area; she was all or nothing, and that extended to her magic.

As Bellamy watched, frowning, she thought she saw smoke rising from the front of Cassie's SUV—"Faye."—then flames spurted from under the hood—"_Faye_."

"Just a little more," Faye said, squinting her eyes subtle at the car; inside it, Bellamy could see that Cassie was thrashing, her little palm pattering against the window. As the flames erupted, disguising the front of the car, Bellamy abandoned her tray with a clatter and focused her energy on the flames, _No air for fire_… She wasn't alone rushing toward Cassie's car as Faye murmured, "Come on, Cassie, put it out…"

"Bellamy—" Adam's voice.

"I know," she said, hurrying down the steps, still focused on the fire, and as Adam threw himself at the driver's-side door, tugging on the handle that wouldn't unlock, Bellamy hung back, away from the danger of the flames, focusing on the fire to put it out while Adam unlocked the door, lifting Cassie out of her seat as she coughed and spluttered.

"C'mon! Come here!" Adam grunted, lifting Cassie bodily away from the car. "Are you okay? Are you alright?"

"What happened?" Mr Conant appeared, white as a sheet, but as he glimpsed Cassie in Adam's arms, his eyes seemed to glow and his features softened.

"Cassie's car…it went up in flames. I'll call 9-1-1," Bellamy said, and Mr Conant nodded as Bellamy strode back into the _Boathouse_, scowling at Faye, who didn't look as contrite as she should for almost torching Cassie alive. Melissa looked uncomfortable, always the one to second-guess Faye's behaviour but never put her in her place for it. Bellamy reached for the phone on its cradle by the door to the kitchen and dialled 9-1-1, watching Faye and Melissa strut out of the _Boathouse_.

"There was a car-fire outside the Boathouse," she said to the emergency-dispatch person. "The fire's out but there was a girl in the car; she might've inhaled some of the smoke." When she had confirmation that an ambulance was on its way with a fire-truck, she hung up, and while she waited tables abandoned by patrons wanting to watch the action, she collected cheques, refilled coffee-cups and brought out plates of pie and desserts, putting tips into the jar on the counter. Mr Conant was very fair with his wages, and probably more generous than he should be, and tips were divided between employees during each shift, dependent on whether they had arrived on time for their shift, were polite to customers—if they were late, they were docked a few dollars from their share of the tip pool, instead of their wages. And, when her shift ended, Bellamy collected her share of the tips with a beaming smile.

Her set wages, she deposited into a savings account, either for college tuition or part of a deposit for her first house; her tips she kept as pocket-money, which usually went on records from the vinyl shop, pizza at the arcade, movie-tickets or trips to the occult store hidden in a backstreet downtown. Bellamy wasn't acquisitive or overtly _girly_; so when she bought clothes it was out of necessity with the changing seasons and she preferred quality over fashionableness. Diana had asked her to go shopping a few times; the _Wetzel's Pretzel_ had made it worthwhile, and admittedly she had come away with two new tops, a pair of earrings and a bottle of nail-polish, but devoting an entire day to wandering around the mall was close to Bellamy's idea of purgatory.

And heaven? That was bundling up in Nick's bed with blankets, his television playing a DVD while they ate a Thai feast and contemplated doing homework while procrastinating with sketchbooks or, in Nick's case, a bong, occasionally talking to his older-brother whenever he deigned to phone home. Ever since they were little, movies with dinner had been a treat; whenever Nick's aunt had babysat Bellamy while her grandfather was out of town lecturing, the boys had enjoyed being able to have different kinds of food and watch movies. Whenever the Armstrong boys spent the weekend with Piney Sade and Bellamy, they enjoyed having a father-figure in their lives, to teach them how to fish, play hockey, catch a baseball, to camp out in the backyard, and the biggest treat for them when they came to stay with Bellamy and her grandfather had always been the steak dinners they had, with homemade fries.

Bellamy had a sudden urge for steak as she sat eating her Thai green curry, and, thinking about the dinner-party her grandfather had orchestrated with the Blakes for Friday-night, she wondered if steak would be more welcome than lasagne. With Cassie's tiny physique, Bellamy wondered whether she was some nitpicky vegan or followed a stringent no-carbohydrates diet.

She'd be screwed; Bellamy and her grandfather believed in enjoying all things in moderation. They ate smaller portions and so could afford to try everything and savour it, not feel guilty.

"Did anyone tell you?" Bellamy said, smiling as she took half of the last duck-roll Nick offered her. "Faye tried to kill Cassie this afternoon."

"Yeah, I heard that," Nick sighed. "Made her car go up in flames."

"Faye has no restraint whatsoever," Bellamy sighed, leaning back against the pillows, crunching on the delicious, piping-hot duck-roll. "It's gonna make it easy for Diana to convince everyone to bind the Circle. You know, between you and Faye, I'd put money on Faye going away for involuntary manslaughter."

"Thanks," Nick smirked, and Bellamy smiled. "Was Cassie okay?"

"Well, Adam leapt right in there, sweeping her out of the burning car," Bellamy smirked. "Like Batman."

"You reckon what his dad rambles about is true?" Nick wondered, glancing thoughtfully from the television-screen to Bellamy.

"All that written-in-the-stars stuff? Maybe."

"I didn't think you believed in horoscopes."

"I didn't. And then I found out I'm a witch…who knows what's real," Bellamy sighed. "I know I won't be reading my future in _Cosmo Girl_ though… I wonder if my grandpa has any books on true astrological magic."

"Diana's Book says witches can use astrological events to channel greater energy," Nick mused. "The moon, meteor showers…"

"There must be something in Grandpa's books," Bellamy mused. "I'd like to learn to read the stars."

"Divination," Nick smirked. "Seriously?"

"Why not?" Bellamy shrugged. "Remember that old telescope we used to use when we'd camp out in the backyard." Nick smiled.

"Yeah, I remember," he said softly.

"We haven't done that in ages," Bellamy sighed.

"Not since before Jake left," Nick said, and his face fell. Talk of his brother always got to him; despite the fact they had done little but fight when Jake had still lived at home, Nick missed his older-brother. Because he was the only thing left that Nick had of his parents. And, sometimes, Jake had been the older-brother Nick had always wanted, the one who got him drunk, taught him about girls, gave him his first joint, helped him get to the next level on _Halo_.

"Have you heard from him lately?" Bellamy asked.

"Talked to him a few days ago, he said he was in Massachusetts," Nick sighed.

"Is he coming home for Thanksgiving this year?"

"Nope," Nick said unconcernedly. "Just like he didn't last year."

"That's too bad," Bellamy sighed. With their fractured families, it had become tradition for the Armstrongs and the Sades to spend Thanksgiving together, with the addition of Jane Blake. Last year, Jake had been long gone before Thanksgiving; and he had left after stealing from Mr Conant at the _Boathouse_, where he had been lucky enough to get a job.

Everyone knew the Armstrong boys were messed up; losing their parents so young, living with their "Jesus-freak" aunt, as Nick called her…they didn't have a family, and it had worn on Jake more so than Nick as they grew up. But in the last eighteen months, Jake had started calling home a little more often than was normal. He talked to Nick, even to Bellamy if she was at the Armstrong house when he called; he was travelling a lot, working from place to place picking up menial jobs at diners. And he sent money back to Mr Conant with every pay-cheque. Bellamy just hoped that, wherever Jake was, he wasn't getting himself into trouble, because he'd made a habit of doing that in Chance Harbour, where there was never much danger of…well, _danger_. It was a small harbour town, not really any such thing as a 'bad part of town', so when Jake had gotten into trouble before it had always been fights with football-players, messing around with some other idiot's girlfriend, smoking and drinking under the bleachers at school.

Nick guessed that if he'd figured out he was a witch, Jake would be okay: Bellamy remembered Jake as a tall, well-built guy who could probably take care of himself in a physical altercation; throw magic into the mix and he'd be fine. Still, it didn't bode well for him that screwed-up Jake was out there alone.

If he got into trouble, the chances were he'd _really_ end up in trouble. Jake had been an angry, messed-up, volatile guy. But perhaps someone had caught him and read him the riot act, straightening him out. He sounded different, the last time Bellamy had spoken to him. He'd seemed…concerned about Nick, how he was doing at school, whether he was doing drugs, if he had a girlfriend. That wasn't the Jake that Bellamy remembered. Jake was Jake because he _didn't_ _care_.

He'd lost the two people he'd loved most in the world, and instead of solidifying a bond with the only other person he had left, Nick, all Jake had ever done was fight with his little brother, push him away. Their shared tragedy hadn't made them inseparable, as Bellamy believed their parents would probably have wanted.

Bellamy would have given anything to have a bond with _her_ brother.

"Have you thought any more about binding the Circle?" Nick asked, and Bellamy glanced up from her composition-notebook, where she was attempting a summary for her chemistry reading.

"What about it?"

"All that stuff you were wondering about, Cassie's mother taking her away from town," Nick said, frowning thoughtfully. "Does seem weird she'd keep her daughter from Chance Harbour."

"Well, Diana's using the not-binding-the-Circle-killed-our-parents angle," Bellamy sighed. "So she's already got the best argument for binding the Circle. I just don't think it's that cut-and-dry."

"How come?"

"There'd be some annotation in the Books," Bellamy shrugged. "Diana's father must have known where the Book was, he probably hid it in that trunk full of her mother's old things. If the fire was as simple as our parents not binding their Circle and their magic going out of control…wouldn't he have written a warning?"

"Maybe Diana's mom hid her Book of Shadows before she died," Nick shrugged. "Your Book says all families jealously guard their Book of Shadows. Everyone else's parents hadn't been married for very long when they died."

"Months, barely," Bellamy sighed. Her own parents had been married nearly ten years when they died; Nick's parents, Richard and Sara, had been married nearly seven. Jack, Bellamy's father, had been best-man at Richard and Sara's wedding; three years earlier, Richard had been Jack's best-man. But the rest of the Circle had gotten pregnant their senior year of high-school; Bellamy had helped Diana search out all of the announcements in the local newspaper seventeen years ago. There had been photographs with a few of the wedding announcements; most of the girls had been noticeably pregnant in them.

Married and pregnant at eighteen. Bellamy was fast approaching her landmark birthday and didn't particularly wish to join the hundreds of thousands of girls who got pregnant in high-school.

"Anyway, I don't…like making assumptions," Bellamy sighed. "Not about this, not about our magic. We don't know enough to presume that things with our parents were that simple. Even if it was magic that got out of control that started the fire, the combined magic of all of our parents would've been more than enough to put it out."

"You think something else was going on?"

"It would explain why nobody will talk about the ferry fire," Bellamy sighed. "Not even my grandpa. And we tell each other everything." Nick sighed, fiddling with a pen before frowning, reaching under his bed for a battered shoebox he hid part of his stash in, and rolling himself a joint.

"You don't reckon we should bind the Circle?" he repeated. All they could think about recently, since the news of Cassie Blake's imminent arrival to Chance Harbour, was that their Circle would be complete. And Diana's hypothesis that their parents had died due to their parents not binding _their_ Circle had her adamant they not make the same mistake. But it was a hypothesis, based on limited information, a lot of guesswork, and no other answers or excuses.

"I think we'd be stupid to jump into something we don't understand," she sighed. "We should work on figuring out what actually happened on that ferry before we do anything. If Diana's so keen to not let our Circle repeat the same mistakes she thinks our parents made with _their_ Circle, we should focus on finding out the truth before we dive into anything. And that includes binding the Circle—especially since Amelia Blake knew taking her daughter out of Chance Harbour would stop any chance we'd have of completing it."

"Mm, but what Diana Meade wants…"

"Adam Conant makes sure she gets," Bellamy sighed, and then she yawned, suddenly tired. Nick smirked, as she drew out her sketchbook and the polished wood case of high-quality colour pencils from her backpack.

"Well, Faye's decided she doesn't want to be bound to the rest of us—"

"Understandable. Forced to hold herself accountable to others is basically Faye Chamberlain's idea of hell."

"—and Melissa always does what Faye says."

"I don't know. Melissa has a conscience where Faye doesn't. Diana might be able to use Cassie's car going up in flames to convince her that our magic is too dangerous, too volatile to leave un-tempered."

"You use a lot of big words," Nick sighed.

"Crosswords," Bellamy shrugged, giving Nick a smirk as she spread languorously on her side across his bed, accepting the lit joint from him after he'd inhaled.

"You know that binding the Circle would mean we'd have more control over our magic—_Faye_ wouldn't be able to do whatever the hell she wants with her magic," Nick said, lying on his back and frowning thoughtfully. "The smart move would be to bind it, but I think you're right. We don't know that _not_ binding it is what killed our parents. And we can't ignore that Amelia Blake left town with her daughter, knowing we'd never be able to bind the Circle without her."

"How do we figure out what happened sixteen years ago?" Bellamy sighed, idly passing Nick the joint between her fingers. Nick sighed softly.

"Look through our parents' stuff…" he said quietly. "There must be clues."

"Do you think your aunt kept any of your parents' things?" Bellamy asked shyly. Nick sighed.

"Doubt it," he muttered. "What about you? Did your grandpa keep any of your parents' things?"

"Are you kidding?" Bellamy sighed, already feeling weary at the prospect of going through her parents' belongings. "He's kept _everything_."

"A few brownies, a bottle of Jack, might be fun to go digging through the past," Nick smiled warmly.

"Check out the awful early-Nineties haircuts?" Bellamy smiled. "Hey, we might find some more photos of your parents!" Nick glanced at her, hope and interest illuminating his eyes. Nick and Jake had only ever had one photograph of their parents; in it, Sara Armstrong had been tossing fall foliage at a toddler Jake, Nick, swaddled in a blue blanket, had been cradled in his father's arms.

"When's your grandpa going out of town again?" Nick asked.

"A few weeks' time," Bellamy sighed.

"Wanna raid your attic while he's away?" Nick smiled. "I could stay over, so you're not alone." When he wanted to be, when nobody but Bellamy was there to witness it, Nick could be a sweetheart. Beneath the abrasive, uncaring exterior there was a real heart that set Nick apart from his angry older-brother; Nick cared.

"Okay," Bellamy smiled. "Shall I buy some plain pizza bases?"

"Definitely," Nick smiled, passing her the joint. Whenever her grandfather went out of town to lecture at colleges across the United States, even Europe, Nick usually invited himself over to Bellamy's place to make sure she wasn't home-alone, just in case anything happened. And, whenever Nick stayed over, they did experimental recipes; Bellamy made a log of all their culinary creations and they had a lot of fun in the kitchen. Creating their own pizzas was something that had carried over from their childhood when Grandpa used to get out everything they had in the refrigerator and pantry, cook up a fresh tomato sauce, and they'd put their own little pizzas together. It would be _fun_.

As Bellamy made her way home later that evening, dark having fallen hours before, she reflected on a lot of things, particularly her childhood with Nick and Jake Armstrong; making those disgusting little decorate-your-own pizzas; her sometimes ill-fated cooking sessions with Nick; Jake letting her watch _The Mighty Ducks_ on VHS every time she visited the Armstrong house because she didn't have it home; swimming-lessons with Nick and playing on the same Little League baseball-teams, coached by her grandpa.

Everything had been so much easier before Diana had dropped the bomb about them being witches. Bellamy would prefer _not_ to be a witch; high-school was difficult enough without the added pressure of being a social-outcast by heritage.

She had been perfectly happy—if that was the correct phrase… She had been _content_ to know that her parents had died together in a fire when she was a year old. She had her grandpa, the best parent she could ever ask for; and she had Nick, as close to her as a brother.

She hadn't needed the extra torment of knowing her parents had been witches, that their magic may or may not have had something to do with their deaths, and that because of their shared heritage Bellamy could also be in danger of sharing their fate.

After spending her childhood absolutely adoring _Harry_ _Potter_, Bellamy had found herself wishing she was a squib.

* * *

Bellamy's life as a witch was not exactly…magical. There was no Hogwarts, no secret world hidden behind a shabby brick wall, no beautiful scarlet steam-trains. Just Geometry homework, studying for a Chemistry test, picking up her shift at the _Boathouse_, and buying groceries to stock the house while her grandpa was gone delivering a lecture at Duke or Tulane or somewhere. She wasn't the only one who believed witchcraft was something sparkly that belonged in _Harry Potter_ books or _Stardust_ movies; Melissa liked playing with her magic, usually encouraged by Faye, but she had watched _Practical Magic_ and _Hocus_ _Pocus_ too many times growing up, and the reality of their lives as witches fell somewhat short of their imagination.

The only one who truly _revelled_ in their heritage was Faye. That girl had more enthusiasm and conviction than Bellamy had ever met, and she enjoyed her magic to the limits of her own creativity, using it for mostly selfish gains, but she enjoyed herself, throwing herself into Diana's Book of Shadows whenever she could get her hands on it. And that wasn't often.

Bellamy kept her mother's Book of Shadows secret because she didn't want to encourage the others. Diana kept her Book to herself because it meant she had control of the Circle, the only one with any source of magical knowledge. Which meant Diana decided when they did things, what spells they tried out, whether they were _allowed_ to practice at all…when they should tell Cassie Blake about the nature of her family's legacy.

Working another shift at the _Boathouse_ during a rainy, grim afternoon Bellamy tugged her cell-phone out of the pocket of her apron. Usually she didn't take her cell out of her little black backpack in the office downstairs, but Diana had insisted they all keep their phones on them, and _on_, at all times, just in case one of the Circle needed them. Meaning her.

For a bunch of kids who'd never had anything in common besides dead parents, it was strange that Bellamy now had Faye Chamberlain's phone-number plugged into her contact-list alongside Diana Meade's. They were two of the girls Bellamy had _never_ believed she would ever be friends with. And she knew, due to her outspokenness, that Faye had exactly the same thoughts about having Bellamy's number in her contact-list.

The fact that before Diana had brought the Circle together, Bellamy's contact-list had comprised her grandfather's cell, Jane Blake's home and work numbers, Nick's cell and his aunt's home-number, didn't elude Faye Chamberlain, who, despite her beauty, had as much an insular social-life with Melissa as Bellamy did with Nick. Faye Chamberlain rejected interaction with her peers; Bellamy struggled to stake a claim on being part of the junior-class.

So the text from Diana, quickly followed by one from Faye, surprised her. Usually she got a call from Diana telling her they all wanted to practice at the abandoned house, and could she bring salsa.

She tugged her phone out; it was a very old black-and-red _Motorola_ EM325, and had once belonged to Jake Armstrong. Bellamy had taken better care of it the last three years than Jake had in the two months he'd kept it before discarding it to Bellamy in favour of a sleek silver flip-phone.

The first text, from Diana; _Telling Cassie. Meet house. Now._

Faye's text; _Control-freak D dropped the bomb on Cas B. D's gonna try and convince C to bind the Circle!_

Putting on another pot of coffee, Bellamy quickly texted back; _Working my shift at the BH, it's the dinner-rush. Won't leave. Think ur rushing this, D. Faye, don't do anything stupid_.

She sent the text to both girls, killing two birds with one stone, and slid her phone back into her apron pocket, taking out her order-pad to serve the customers who'd just sat down at a freshly-cleaned booth.

_We need the whole Circle there!_ Diana's reply came as she was filling drinks orders.

_Tough. Adam's not here, Mr C needs the help_.

She ignored all further texts, run off her feet to fill dinner orders, serving up milkshakes, lobster-platters, fried cod and the _Boathouse_'s famous chowder, slices of warmed pie and refilling coffees, passing drinks orders to the bartender because she wasn't old enough to serve alcohol.

* * *

**A.N.**: A shorter chapter, but a chapter nonetheless! I think writing that Bellamy wished she was a 'squib' summarises her feelings over the whole Circle/witchcraft topic!


End file.
